


Mission Control

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair has to go.  But before he can leave, Jim uses a unique method to get a message to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Control

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is really a story about an appliance. First encountered these beauties on a trip to Japan several years ago, and they are _unbelievable_. Really. Checked it out on the web the other day http://www.magicjohn.com/bidet.htm and found the new models still look quite odd, but not so much like a cockpit. But they _do_ have remote controls now... oh, jeez, I might actually have to _get_ one of these... 
> 
> To make a very long and interesting tale short and publishable, I've used one of these in an office building on Kyushu, where a good friend and I just kept pressing buttons 'til we figured them all out -- and laughed ourselves silly. Later that year, I stayed with a friend who had one in his private home in Tokyo, and he and his wife thoughtfully provided a small translation card, with which another friend and I experimented. Great fun, really. Highly recommended! 
> 
> Thanks to SAB, Briony, and Anagi for many helpful beta comments and encouragement to post my first SenSto 

## Mission Control

by Smaragd Gruen

Author's webpage: <http://www.greencraft.com/snakepit>

Author's disclaimer: Gratuitous use of a key phrase and graphic mental image from the blooper reel. And no apologies for the bathroom humor.

* * *

Mission Control 

"Wow!" This was unbelievable. Well, maybe _believable_ , but _definitely_ a cultural anachronism. Blair had expected this hotel would be very Asian, so he wasn't surprised by the subdued lighting in the rooms, or the black lacquered containers of exotic lotions on the marble counter, or the wooden floor in the shower. But this! This was _not_ of this world. 

He stuck his head out the door and asked, grinning, just to be sure, "What country are we in again, Jim?" 

Jim walked into the bathroom, asking, "Isn't there--," and stopped, puzzled. "What's wrong?" 

"This!" Blair exclaimed to his oblivious partner. "Look at it! It has a-- it has a _control_ panel, Jim!" Shaking his head in wonder, he clarified, " _Two_ control panels!" Blair stared in open amazement at the technology on display in the otherwise Spartan room. "I mean, I know Vancouver has experienced massive cultural changes since the Western Exodus, and there's no question this hotel caters to their Asian clientele, but I'm getting a whole new concept of customer service, here." 

"Well, I'm not complaining." Jim's comment reflected his usual amusement at Blair's enthusiasm. "It could have been a traditional Japanese toilet." 

Blair leapt headfirst into the opening Jim offered, seizing the chance to discuss anything cultural, anywhere, anytime. "Hey, those were a big step in the development of Japanese communities. A guy at NYU did a whole comparative study on excretion rituals and their impact on cultural identity." He snorted, remembering some of the comments on it from the grad students in the department. "You know, westerners are way too sensitive about these things." 

Jim grinned. "And I though you were paying attention when we were in South America." 

Blair paused, looking sheepishly at his fellow traveler. "Well, westerners in general, but maybe not James Ellison, okay? You've done a lot of traveling in the far east, and, of course there was _Peru_ , but really, most people in this country would totally _freak_ without their American Standard porcelain and their don't-squeeze-the-Charmin." 

Jim shrugged. "Modern technology does have some advantages, Sandburg." 

Blair considered for another moment, nodding. "Even so... I didn't expect _this_ from a culture so steeped in their own traditions. I swear, the entire Japanese population must be early adopters. Actually," he paused, his thoughts tumbling, "Technology can become a tradition in its own right, don't you think?" Blair continued to study the appliance, unable to quite reconcile the concept he had in his mind with the reality in front of him. 

"I suppose." Jim was laconic as he gave Blair one of his patented looks. This one told Blair his partner had entered the patronizing zone, and he heeded the warning, beginning to shift back on his exuberance level. But when Jim began looking over the appliance himself, and he said, "Though you have to admit this is quite a step up from a hole in the floor," Blair realized it was an opportunity to continue their discussion, that Jim was cool with it, that he could really explore this thing, and he jumped in again. 

"Yeah, man, more like several flights of stairs up! Nobody mentioned _aerospace_ technology in the paper I read! I mean, here's a country that didn't even have porcelain fixtures until after World War II. And this." Blair stood in front of the appliance, saying, "I gotta try it," as he opened his fly. He glanced back at Jim, wondering if this would offend him. They generally respected each other's privacy when it came to using the bathroom. Well, actually, _he_ had always respected _Jim's_ privacy. He had no idea if Jim listened in when he was taking care of his body's natural functions. Not that he minded, of course, it was part of the deal, but he would never, like, well, _ask_. 

But Jim was just standing there, leaning against the doorjamb, a half-smile on his lips. Blair shrugged. They'd both taken care of each other through some nasty injuries and had seen it all before, at least on a clinical level. He'd never had a problem doing this in front of anybody, either. Hey, it was just silly western customs that kept him actually _clothed_ most of the time. Well, that and the hellish climate in the Pacific Northwest, which he couldn't even escape for this conference, but life was full of experiences, and he wasn't going to pass up any of them. He glanced back down at the oddly shaped bowl in front of him, contemplating the sleek lines, the contoured seat, the padded back, and thought, what-the-fuck. 

With a flourish, he turned around, dropped his jeans, and sat down, hearing a low hum kick in as he wiggled into place on the wide seat. Oh, yeah, this was definitely designed for a sit down job, it felt like a fucking _cockpit_. Grinning up at Jim, he said, laughing, "I feel like I should be running through my pre-flight checklist!" He settled his arms on the side supports and ran his fingers over the panels of pastel-colored buttons on either side of the seat, finally taking a good look at the symbols on them. "Hey, there's no English on this anywhere! How am I supposed to know what does what?" He looked helplessly up at Jim, wondering what so many controls could do. "I mean, does this recline, or vibrate, or what?" 

"You know, for a researcher, your experimental method isn't very impressive." Jim said indulgently as he knelt beside Blair, picking up a laminated card off the shelf behind him. "They _did_ provide a translation." 

Blair reached for the card, "Okay, lemme see," but stopped in surprise as it was pulled out of his reach. "Hey! I need--" 

"No, you don't." Jim glanced at the card, and back to the panels. "I think you'd better let me drive." He pushed Blair firmly back against the padding behind him, and said, "Relax, Chief." 

"Right." Like he could. Blair continued to squirm, asking, "What are you going to do to me?" 

"It won't hurt, don't worry." Jim kept his hand on Blair's chest as he studied the pastel keys and corresponding denotations on the card. 

The contrast between the gruff words and the kindness in Jim's voice filled Blair with warmth and longing, and he suddenly wondered if he was going to be able to relieve himself, considering the flash of arousal he felt. No, it was all right. It was just a normal reaction to being semi-naked in the presence of another person, even if that person was his friend and roommate, not some nubile Geisha girl. He could deal, he thought, this is a Japanese room, so just think Japanese. Their cultural was totally at ease with nudity and close quarters like this. He glanced down to make sure his shirt covered him, and leaned back, bracing himself. 

"Okay, tower, I'm ready for liftoff!" Blair said, using his best 'Buzz Lightyear' voice. 

Jim glanced at him, his eyes darkening briefly, and Blair felt a flutter of uncertainty in his belly. As he watched Jim's hands move across the panel and waited for the next step, he allowed his trust in his partner to automatically calm his fears. 

"Okay, that's good." Jim must have sensed his regained control, and he continued in the same tone of authority. "Just relax and... do what you have to do." He pressed a pink button, and hit an 'up' arrow a few times. "This just warms the seat." 

"Umm... okay," Blair replied. Jim was still reading the list of functions on the card, not looking at him. After a moment, Blair closed his eyes and concentrated on relaxing the muscles at the base of his cock. He began to sense the gentle heat along his thighs, just like Jim had described, and was relieved to feel the rush of warmth as his bladder began to release its contents. He'd expected it to be louder, more disturbing, but the sound was muted. That was what that thing was in the bottom of the bowl, he thought. So clever... then he lost himself in the flow for a moment, going with the sensuality of the situation. It was perfectly natural to enjoy this feeling, and he did. 

As the last few drops left his body, he took a deep breath and started to sit up and reach for himself, to shake off the excess moisture, but a gentle hand pushed him back. "Not done already, are you?" 

"Aaah, actually, I was... um, that was it, Jim." He was strangely disappointed about that, wanting to stay where he was, but, hey, timing was timing. 

"Well, that may be all for _you_ , but I'm just getting started. I want to try all these features." 

Blair jerked. "On me?" He cleared his throat, trying to bring the pitch of his voice back down to his normal range. 

"On you," Jim smirked at him. "You're the one who just _had_ to sit down." 

Blair realized belatedly that he'd put himself on the hotseat. Literally. A result of his unerring instinct to get himself into weird situations. He supposed the only thing to do was ride it out, so he replied, "Okay." Blair allowed it was a pretty comfy place to be, sitting on the nicely contoured seat, just warm enough, his arms resting comfortably. He could do this. But before he did, he just had to ask, "You've... you've listened in on... this before, right?" 

Jim raised his eyes. "On you, in the bathroom?" At Blair's nod, he answered the question. "Well, I can't really avoid it, can I? I can hear your food from the time you put it in your mouth, all the way through your system." He shrugged, "Usually I filter it out, but sometimes... it's just there." He glanced up at Blair, "Especially those algae shakes. Strange noises." 

Blair suppressed a giggle. "Hey, that's great. Maybe you could sense my electrolyte balance..." At Jim's glare, he murmured, "No, probably not." 

Then the Sentinel was back into scientist mode. "Now, tell me if this feels cool or warm." Jim was concentrating, and Blair guessed he was sensing the temperature of the seat on his thighs and bottom. He wondered if Jim wouldn't be too averse to a short debriefing later. 

Jim pressed a light blue button, and Blair jumped several inches as felt a chilling puff of air blow across his exposed skin. "Ooh!" He landed back on the seat with a sharp intake of breath. 

"Okay, we'll take that as a 'cool'," Jim said as he adjusted the temperature up by pressing a pale orange arrow. 

As the blowing air warmed up, Blair felt the direction of the flow change until it was focused on his cock. He'd never experienced anything quite like being blow-dried _there_ , and it felt, well, it felt pretty nice. He vaguely registered that the toilet was flushing underneath him, but the warmth of the flowing air mitigated any coolness he might have sensed from the swirling water. 

"Thanks, man," Blair said, sincerely, as he tried to rise once again. 

"Not done yet, Chief." 

Blair turned to look at Jim, still holding the card Blair imagined to be the Rosetta stone of Japanese toilets. What he wouldn't give for a look at it right now. "What else _is_ there, Jim?" Hadn't they already covered the fact that he was finished? 

"Just a couple more things I want to try." Jim glanced up at him, suddenly impatient. "Isn't that what you always tell me when you're starting another so-called _test_ , when I think we're done? 

"Oh." So that was where this was coming from. "Umm... it's possible I might have said that... a time or two," he admitted. Jim's scowl solidly confirmed that turnabout was fair play. Blair conceded, "Well, as long as it's in the interest of solid experimentation--" 

"Yeah, just think of it as science, Professor." Jim's voice was now serious, yet not threatening, just intent on what he was doing. 

"Okay, okay." The anthropologist in him figured he could be the guinea pig for once. Blair tried to relax, though he was unable to shake the weirdness of being here, with Jim, with him doing this intensely personal thing for him, while he felt perfectly healthy and all. Jim was treating him so gently, as though he were ill. The feeling was reinforced as Jim rested a hand on his knee and reached across him to the opposite panel, his voice soothing, "Think calm thoughts, all right?" 

Closing his eyes and murmuring, "I am calm," Blair heard the whirring noise of a mechanism moving underneath him. Before he could identify the sound, however, a stream of warm water hit his left cheek. "Hey!" 

"It's just water, Sandburg," Jim said, his voice testy. 

"Oh." What was this thing? Some kind of bidet on steroids? He could feel the stream of water tickling his thigh. 

"Is it warm or cool on your skin?" Jim asked, still not looking at Blair. 

How could the man be so goddamned analytical at a time like this? "Um, it's warm. It's okay," he said more to himself than to his tormentor. It was a little unsettling at first, but not actually disturbing, once you got used to it. 

"Good," Jim replied. Something in the tone of Jim's voice started to make Blair nervous. He was totally passive here, expected to accept anything and everything Jim did. Though he trusted Jim not to hurt him, he suspected his level of comfort was going to be seriously strained by this session. 

"I can hear your heart. Breathe, okay?" 

Right. Not only was he going to be subjected to the _wrath of Frankenstein's monster_ turned against him, with Jim expecting him to sit here virtually _naked_ and take whatever this thing did to him, but he had to keep his heart from racing, too. This was bordering on inhumane! He'd never asked _Jim_ to get naked for any of his tests, had he? No, he definitely would have remembered _that_. 

Still, he had asked Jim to do plenty of things that made him uncomfortable. So... "Okay." Blair closed his eyes. He knew this situation would unduly strain anybody's sensibilities, but he was going to stay. What were his options, anyway? Jumping up and trying to get past Joe Linebacker with his pants around his ankles? Not a good bet there, boy. Nope, grin and bear it, that was what he was going to do. And keep calm. 

He kept his eyes closed, inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly, and then _yelped_ as the stream of warm water began to move. His eyes flew open to see Jim's head bent in concentration as he manipulated the small joystick on the right hand panel. Jim's hand on his leg soothed him, fortifying him, as the warm water playing along his ass moved from his cheek across his perineum. The tickling sensation on his thigh stopped, and moved to his more tender areas. 

He was trying to stay relaxed, but it just wasn't working. Suddenly, it was a whole _different_ problem. He quickly hazarded a glance down at his shirt, making sure his steadily growing erection was hidden from view. 

The water jet moved a bit further, then found his anus, he felt his heartbeat blip as it centered there. Oh, shit, Jim could hear that, couldn't he? The devastating combination of civilized technology and pre-civilized man never had hit him so close to home before. This was seriously fucking with his senses. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jim's hand begin to move again, and the stream of water on his most sensitive skin began to swirl, in a maddeningly slow, tight circle, and he swallowed the whimper that welled up in his throat, weakly getting out, "Uh, Jim?" 

"Quiet," Jim replied, in that pre-occupied, slightly exasperated voice. "You're the test pilot here, and I'm still gathering data." Blair felt his cock swelling, the blood swirling within it in timed with the water jet, and he knew Jim could tell exactly what was happening, could smell his arousal, could feel the heat in his groin, and he tried to care, tried to worry, but he couldn't. The water washing over his ass was too distracting, and it was making him feel too good. 

"Oh... okay." Then he couldn't think anymore as the swirling transitioned to a gentle pulsing. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the shelf behind him, grateful for its solid presence. "Just in the interest of science," he murmured, and he felt all reason slip away as the water beat against him, his pulse quickening, his cock swelling. Then he moaned as he felt Jim's fingers, slick with something warm and fragrant, touch his now rock-hard cock, and begin to move. 

Jim was murmuring into his ear, "That's it, Chief." Reassuring words in a soothing tone. "Just feel it." 

"Yeah... I feel it..." Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the little laminated card did _not_ instruct Jim to handle his cock this way. But he didn't care about that. He was doing what Jim told him to do; he owed it to Jim to obey his every direction. Jim wouldn't hurt him, couldn't... possibly... 

Then even those vague thoughts dissipated as the pressure of the water stream increased, and it felt as though his whole body were oscillating along with it. His heart beat thudded, his thigh muscles pulsed, his lungs expanded and contracted, all matching the same basal rhythm. And Jim's hand, hot and strong, gripped his cock, stroking him in a compelling counterpoint to the undeniable cadence surging through his blood 

Slowly and inexorably, the frequency of the pulsing increased, and the steady grip on his cock was unrelenting as it kept pace. Blair stopped caring that he was sitting on a toilet seat in a hotel room in Vancouver. He had definitely stopped caring that this was highly inappropriate behavior for a police detective and an observer. But somehow, through the haze, he knew and he cared that it was Jim touching him this way, he cared for Jim more than he had been able to acknowledge for a long time, and Blair knew he would never refuse Jim anything. 

And now Jim's other hand was threading through his hair, was sweeping all previous knowledge away, and he could feel the heat, could hear Jim's quickened breathing, could not deny the rhythm, the _throbbing_ , the itch deep inside him that the gushing water jet was causing and he needed to scratch that itch, and only by staying very, very still could the need be eased, so he did, holding himself rigid against the oncoming wave, bracing for the onslaught, the surge of adrenalin, and finally, finally, holding his breath for what felt like way, way too long before it crashed over him, the pressure increasing until he was arching his back and coming, coming in hard jerks, pumping what felt like gallons of creamy ejaculate into Jim's hand. 

Reality went away for a time until he floated down, his surroundings slipping back into place as the frequency of his heartbeat decreased, the pressure in the water and in his blood slowly fading as he came away, trembling, from the incredible place Jim had taken him. 

His breathing was nearing normal and he was almost ready to open his eyes when he felt the warm air flowing again, soothing him, drying the moisture clinging to his skin. He felt a warm, wet cloth wiping away the remains of the lotion and his orgasm from his cock, and more warm air ruffling through his pubic hair as he came back to himself. 

Finally, everything was turned off and the silence in the room grew, pressing in, and then grew even larger. He cracked one eye open. Jim was still kneeling on the floor, back on his heels, arms crossed now, watching him. Cool as the other side of the pillow. 

"Oh, _man_." Blair leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head onto his hands. He peered at Jim through his fingers. "You gonna explain that?" 

"It was an experiment." He could hear the smile in Jim's voice. 

Blair dropped his hands, staring openly. "Huh?" 

"You're always treating _me_ like a lab rat," Jim smirked, "I thought I'd return the favor." 

"Hey, none of my tests were like... were that _intimate_..." Blair glanced around, and finally found the wherewithal to pull up his pants, standing and fastening them. 

"Allow me to disagree, Professor," Jim replied amiably, standing and walking into the sitting room. "Think about it," he said, dropping onto the couch as Blair followed him. "Think about what it's like to control my response when you crouch between my legs and ask me to dial up smell." The Sentinel gave his Guide a long, hard look. "Or when I have to listen to your voice, your hand on my back, and dial up touch." 

Blair started to pace, uneasy with what Jim was implying. "I never considered that." If it were possible to blush any more in his current post-orgasmic state, he would have. 

"Well, now you might." 

Of course he would _now_ , but how could he have known his proximity had any effect on Jim? Blair paced back and forth, considering. He'd just been doing what he thought he had to, not like there was _any_ way to _know_ how this whole Sentinel thing worked. He'd always just assumed their physical closeness made things easier, never taking into account any sort of male comfort factor, he'd just thought it didn't apply to them, that they had to be close in order to communicate. What Jim was saying clearly made sense, but what did it mean? 

Thinking out loud, he said, "Okay... but Jim, what are you asking me to do? Get out of your space when you're using your senses? You know I can't do that, not and be any help to you." 

Jim's face was blank, as he replied, "No, nothing like that. Chief, I'm just asking you to think about it. To be aware." 

"Okay, so I'm aware." Knowing there had to be more of a point to Jim's demonstration, he tried another tack. "Um, so... is there some... I don't know... some sort of mitigating behavior I could take?" 

"I'm not sure. There could be." Jim's face was still unreadable, and Blair could only imagine how uncomfortable this whole thing must make him. This was every straight guy's worst nightmare. It would be totally foreign to somebody like Jim. 

Okay. It was something Jim wanted him to figure out for them. Blair returned to pacing. Another test for the Guide, payback for all those 'you-figure-it-out, you're-the-Sentinel' tactics he'd ever used. Fine. 

"Well, I can't exactly know your state of, you know... I mean, you have a distinct advantage here, and don't tell me you weren't monitoring my... my every _response_ to what you were doing in there." Blair said, nodding toward the bathroom. 

"You know I was," Jim acknowledged. 

"So, how am I supposed to know when to back off when I don't know when it's causing a reaction because I really doubt you're gonna start giving me periodic updates... Am I right, Jim?" A small shake of Jim's head confirmed Blair's statement. 

Okay. This was going to be something Jim handled on his own. Right, let's approach this systematically. The first thing to do was to break the problem into segments. "Let's look at this more objectively," he began. "What we have is a stimulus and a response." Blair thought furiously. "So let's look at the stimulus. I assume you've tried to filter me out-- " 

Jim opened his mouth to reply, but Blair answered for him, "No, of course that wouldn't work. Filtering out your Guide would be _really_ counterproductive." Blair grinned, realizing he was starting to enjoy solving the puzzle Jim had posed. 

"Okay. We can't avoid the stimulus; therefore, we have to work on the response to the stimulus. So, how does anyone control their unwarranted reaction to an unavoidable stimulus?" Suddenly, it came to him. "Slow desensitization!" He tapped himself on the forehead. "The technique they use to cure phobias... you know, like a fear of spiders or snakes or, um, heights." 

Blair sat down next to Jim, explaining excitedly, hands flying. "See, first, you get into a very relaxed state, a very safe place for you. Then you think about, say, a small spider, or maybe look at a simple drawing of one while you stay very calm and comfortable." He ignored Jim's vaguely amused gaze. "You do this until you can invoke a 'relaxation response' when you're confronted with this small spider stimulus. Eventually, you work your way up to larger images, and then real spiders, and _boom_ you're holding a tarantula!" 

"Sandburg, I'm not following you. Why would I want to hold a tarantula?" 

"No, no, no. No spiders. Sorry about that." Blair took a deep breath, let it out. "Let's start over." 

Jim started to get up. "You mean, back... there?" He nodded toward the other room, an uncertain grin hinting at his features. 

"No!" Blair exclaimed, quelling the unexpected yearning in his chest. "I mean... I got the point, Jim." 

"Good." 

"Yeah." He'd actually gotten more than the _point_ , but that didn't matter now. "Anyway, what I was thinking was that we could get you to relax, sort of in a controlled way, then I could, you know, _stimulate_ you somehow, and you would try to stay, you know, _relaxed_ , while I did that." 

"Stay relaxed." 

"Yeah, sort of in a self-induced trance, a mini-zone, kind of, maybe focus on something else in the room, something innocuous, like that bowl on the table, I don't know." 

"And what are you going to do?" 

"Umm. Well, I would start by just sitting next to you, and then you could maybe see if you could... smell me, I guess. And stay relaxed." There, that hadn't gone so badly, and there _was_ the off-chance it would work. 

"And why would I want to stay relaxed?" Jim asked, as though he really wanted to know the answer. 

Why was Jim being so obtuse? He had brought up the whole problem. But Blair was happy to delineate it for him. "Why? Well, that's obvious. Because then you could train yourself not to, you know, um, _react_ when I'm in your space. Sort of a learned behavior thing." 

"Okay, but explain to me why would I want to learn that." 

Blair was starting to feel like a kindergarten teacher. "Jim! That's the point. I mean, you were complaining that I'm, like, _intruding_ on your space, and..." He stopped mid-ramble, asking, "Why are you looking at me like that?" Jim was staring at him as though he were insane. "This is what you were talking about, wasn't it?" 

"Well, I'm not sure. Explain it to me again, why don't you... because I don't think we're communicating here." 

Blair took a deep breath. Spell it out. Clearly. Okay, no euphemisms this time. No analogies, no case studies, no clinical stuff. Just state the facts and we'll get through this. Right. But he couldn't meet Jim's eye as he reiterated the situation. "That little scene in the bathroom... with the water jet, and the blow dryer..." He spoke rapidly, the words rushing out of his mouth, "And the hand job, you were trying to show me how you sometimes get overwhelmed by your senses... by your sexual response to me when I'm in your space. And I'm trying to come up with a plan so that doesn't happen." He glanced up at his partner, hoping he was getting through. 

"Why don't you want it to happen?" Now Jim was definitely looking puzzled by Blair's explanation. 

"Why don't _I_ want it to happen?" Blair blinked stupidly. "Why don't _I_... it's not my problem, Jim, it's..." He trailed off, the look in Jim's eyes cutting off the flow of words. 

"Did I say it was a problem, Chief?" Blair stared at Jim, the look in his partner's eyes solidifying into something he barely recognized. And the longer Blair stared, the more amused Jim became. 

"Well, no, you..." What _was_ that look on Jim's face? He couldn't remember ever seeing it before. Well, maybe a bit, earlier, when Jim was describing the problem-- he _had_ said it was a problem, right? 

"You said it was... " Had he said it was distracting? No, he had said... he had said he wanted Blair to _be aware_ of the situation. He had minded that Blair was oblivious, but he hadn't said he minded, hadn't said... well, truth be told, he hadn't been able to get too many words in between all of the anthrobabble Blair had been spouting. As usual. Why did he always let his mouth get ahead of his brain? 

So. Okay. He was still staring at Jim, and Jim was still staring at him. Jim was relaxed, confident. A half-smile threatening his lips. Waiting. Waiting for _what_? 

For you to figure it out, you dweeb. Jim knew the answer, whatever it was, and Blair was supposed to get it. "Uhh... Jim? Can I buy a clue here?" 

"You? The professor? Clueless?" Jim's trademark full-tilt smile hinted its presence and slowly won the day. "Never thought I'd see it happen." 

"Great," Blair muttered, "All this and sarcasm, too." On top of some weird sensory puzzle, one that Jim had needed to demonstrate to him in a _blatantly_ sexual manner-- 

Which Jim had not said was a problem. 

So, he was trying to tell Blair that it wasn't a... which meant...which might mean... which could really only mean... that it _wasn't_ _a_ _problem_. 

"Jesus, James," Blair breathed, as his life was bathed in a whole new kind of light, a light that came from James Ellison's clear blue eyes. 

Blair locked onto those eyes, trying to make sense of the information he had learned, but he just couldn't seem to get past the 'oh, my god' that ran around in circles in his brain. Jim waited, still evincing that frustratingly amused look, as Blair churned through all the possible meanings behind his words and actions. Right. There was an attraction. Well, duh, he'd figured that out a long time ago. But that it could mean _more_ , that was causing a major roadblock in his path to enlightenment. 

He shot Jim an accusing look, "I suppose you expecting me-the-Guide to tell you what this means." 

Jim looked a little surprised at that. "No. I don't think I expected you to react even this well." 

Great. Exceeding expectations in the Twilight Zone. "So. Fine. What happens next?" 

"Well, I don't know that, either, Darwin." 

Jim looked away and Blair could see him struggling, trying to work out what to say. And all he could do was sit here, with no idea how to help. Some Guide he was. He was still trying to figure out where to start when Jim reached over and took his hand. 

Which was absolutely the last thing Blair had expected. 

He sat, stunned, as Jim said, "Since neither of us seem to be smart enough to figure this out on our own," Jim's voice dropped with his eyes as he continued, "Maybe we should work on it together." 

Blair smiled at that, wondering when it had finally sunk into Jim's pre-civilized brain that they were a team. Hmmm. Apparently before some even more important things had occurred to _him_ , and he was supposed to be the goddamned Guide. He had some serious catching up to do. 

Way serious catching up. And parity was probably a good place to start. "I need to tell you something, too." Blair turned Jim's hand over in his, then let it go. "Maybe a lot of somethings." 

"Okay." The gruffness in Jim's voice was sparking a blaze of warmth through his gut. This was either going to be really easy or really, really tough. 

"I've never even thought about this," Blair offered, his voice tentative. 

After a moment of silence, Jim replied, "Well, I'm surprised, I think. You didn't seem too traumatized by--" He jerked his head toward the bathroom. 

"By my response? No." 

"But... by me... touching you?" Jim sounded just like a man waiting for a 16-ton weight to drop on his head, and Blair rushed to his rescue. 

"No, definitely not by that." 

"But by something?" Still the hesitancy in Jim's voice, tearing at Blair. 

"Yeah... well, traumatized isn't the right word. Bothered, maybe." He cleared his throat. "Because I didn't _know_ , I didn't see it..." 

"Hey," Jim interjected, "You're not supposed to be some sort of SuperGuide, I don't expect you to read my mind --" 

"No. No, it bothers me that I didn't see it in _me_." Blair ran a hand through his hair. "I'm 29 years old, Jim. You'd think I'd know when I was... when I cared about someone enough to want to... to want that. I mean, it was _there_ , in the back of my mind, but I should have--" 

Jim sat back. "Is that it?" He almost laughed. "Join the club, because I had no idea, either. But it's been there, for a lot longer than I can even remember." 

They shared a smile, then, of total understanding between two people who were finally allowed, finally granted the privilege by the powers that be, to look at each other, to really look into the soul of another person, and to see themselves reflected there. To see what it meant. 

It was the ultimate reward. 

"Wow." Blair was speechless. Well, speechless for him, he reflected. He continued to run his gaze over Jim, seeing the familiar face, which looked the same as it had this morning, the same as it always had, but somehow totally different, too. It must be that he was seeing him through a different lens. Incredibly different. Beautifully different. He wanted to... he had no idea what he wanted to do. To be closer, maybe. To share everything he was thinking, everything he was feeling, everything he was, with Jim. The sudden and aching need he felt filled him up. 

Then Jim jerked and ran a nervous hand up and down his thigh before turning away. Oh, geez. Blair realized he had no idea what direction Jim wanted to take, how far he was willing to go, how fast they could travel. This still had to be an agonizing ordeal for a Cop-Ranger-Mr. America guy like Jim. But they trusted each other, understood each other, and the logical thing, Blair thought, would be to talk about their options, to share the list of possibilities that popped into his head. It wasn't as though hot monkey sex was the only possible next step, was it? 

He started in, saying, "So, we have some options, right? We could discuss them, get comfortable with..." Whatever course of action they could handle, he thought, finishing lamely, "You know." 

Jim humored him. "Sure, Sandburg." 

Blair ignored his comment as well as the accompanying smirk. "Well, for starters, we could, um... stop spending so much time together. You know, if it were a problem." 

Some of the amusement disappeared as Jim responded, "Is it?" 

"For me? No." 

"That's good." 

"Yeah." Blair smiled, feeling the connection between them again. But he forced himself to go slowly. They needed to move on to Plan B, had to go through the list. They had to make this decision together. "You know we don't have to _do_ anything about this," he said, "We could just be typical American guys and ignore it." 

Jim's face darkened at that suggestion. "Not what I had in mind." 

"Yeah, I guessed that," Blair replied, and Jim relaxed slightly. Right. Well, that left the big stuff, didn't it? "O-kay. Now, just to get this out of the way," he paused, taking a breath. "Another option could be to," and after another pause, he finally spit it out, "Find a woman who wouldn't mind being with both of--" 

"Sandburg!" 

Blair's hands flew up in an effort to protect his face. "Sorry, I knew that, just didn't want to leave it unmentioned, or anything." 

He took a deep breath as the tension eased briefly before returning to tighten around his heart. Then he looked up, looked into Jim's eyes, and made his next suggestion, "We could try, um," and paused, wondering again at the reflection there, "We could try touching _more_ and see what happens." 

Jim, who had been merely intent on the discussion was suddenly focused like a laser light on Blair. "You mean," he replied intently, "Like this?" And as the touching began, Blair was overwhelmed by the gentleness of Jim's hands, slowly exploring his neck, lightly caressing his chest, the touch tentative but purposeful. Profound. Something major was happening here. Jim's eyes were black, unfocused, and Blair was dizzy with desire. Whoa, this was-- Then he couldn't think anymore as those nimble fingers began running through his hair. The warmth of Jim's big, hard, body against his side accelerated the sensory overload. He felt Jim inhale sharply, and he suddenly considered, through the haze, that Jim was smelling him, all of him, even his sweat, his... everything. 

Wow. And he was okay with it. Double wow. 

Blair relaxed into the embrace, reaching for Jim, then finding his strong-boned face, running fingers along the prominent brow, the stark cheekbones, the soft, soft, lips. 

He melted into his partner's gaze. He saw the answer there, but had to ask anyway, "Do you want this?" Blair had to hear the words. Words would make it real. 

The look in Jim's eyes stated clearly that Jim had decided to stop joking, to stop playing; that he was answering the question with his soul. "I-- I'm not sure what 'this' is." The struggle raged across Jim's face, and Blair could see the moment the conflict within was resolved. "I don't know what I want, just that it's you. I want you." Those eyes burned a brilliant blue laser through Blair, and the fire in them filled his heart, which stopped beating for just an instant as Jim bent his head to meet Blair's lips with his own. 

The kiss was gentle, and warm, and so sweet, Blair didn't think he would ever want to come up for air. There was something hidden there, something that tantalized Blair and made him want more and more. Then Jim gave him more. More than he'd hoped for, more than he'd known he wanted, more than he'd ever thought possible. It was deep, and hot, deeper and hotter than kisses had a right to be, and Blair gave himself over to it, letting Jim lead him through a dark and winding labyrinth, following blindly, helplessly. 

This couldn't be happening, but it was happening. Oh, my god, oh my god, ohmygod! With effort, he pulled away from those electron-charged lips, wondering aloud, "What are we doing?" more to himself than to anyone else. 

His mouth against Blair's temple, Jim murmured, "Male bonding?" and the spinning stopped as the clutch in Blair's brain engaged, and he dissolved into laughter. They grinned at each other, the tension gone, all possibilities dismissed but one. 

Jim's mouth moved to Blair's ear, licking delicately, then down his throat. Blair threw his head back, allowing him better access. "I think that was Option D, and yeah, I'd like to bond with you." 

"You would, hmm." Jim's voice was muffled against the skin at the opening of his shirt. 

"Oh, yeah." Blair's hands fumbled, trying to find purchase on Jim's broad chest. 

"Anywhere in particular you want to start?" Jim's voice resonated with possibilities, throwing Blair almost beyond thought, leading him to operate on basic instinct as he moved his hand to find and cover Jim's cock, bulging through his jeans. He gasped, feeling the heat, the bulk, the power, pulsing through the cloth. 

Jim moaned, shuddering under his touch, and Blair whispered, "How about here?" 

"Ohhh..." Jim was clutching at him now, the need in his voice thick as honey. He dipped his head, nudging Blair into another kiss, and Blair locked onto him like a drowning man, striving, yearning, reaching toward more of Jim, wanting it all. Then Jim was pushing Blair back into the corner of the couch, crushing him against the cushions, and finding his lips again in a searing, soul-stealing kiss. 

Blair was overwhelmed by Jim's big body pressing again him, Jim's taste filling his mouth, his scent suddenly strong, suddenly there, Jim's arms holding him, surrounding him, carrying him all the way up the treacherous slope, climbing further and further, further than Blair had ever been, further than he ever thought he could go. 

Then all sensation went away except for the rhythm, the giving, the taking, the friction of Jim pressing his heat against Blair, and Blair could hear himself whimpering, moaning with each thrust, and then Jim increased the force, pumping harder, moving faster, gasping Blair's name as he slammed hard against him, and suddenly stilling, suddenly surging to a shattering climax. The force of his release echoed through Blair's body, and he came as well, thrusting his hips again and again against the hard body over him as the world went away. 

* * *

The first thing sensation Blair noticed afterward was light. He blinked, then tried to take a breath, which proved to be impossible. As he struggled for air, the weight on his chest shifted, and sweet oxygen flowed. Sound started to join the light as his consciousness finally kicked in. 

He watched as Jim sat up and ran a hand over his face. Blair pushed up onto his elbows, feeling the waves of pleasure in his body recede, studying his partner. 

Jim turned his head, looking a bit startled. He seemed to be checking his senses out, ensuring he was still functioning, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He didn't look at Blair as he muttered, "Well, that was a little urgent." 

Blair fell back, sighing. "I'll say," and added, "I think we set some sort of record." 

The moment should have been awkward, and it was heading that way, when Jim grinned at him, saying, "We could hit reset and try it again." 

Blair could feel himself almost beaming at his best friend in the world. "Yeah, and could we reset the location, too? My body vaguely remembers this can be done horizontally." 

Jim stood, offering him a hand up. "Sounds like a plan, Chief." Then as he pulled Blair to his feet, he smiled sweetly, remarking, "I can't wait to see what kind of control panel they put on the bed." 

* * *

Much later, burrowed under the covers one of the large, very comfortable, and thankfully Western beds, Blair's brain began to operate, spinning up to full speed again. 

"Uh, Jim?" 

"Mmmm?" came the drowsy reply. 

"Hey, I just have to ask... did you plan that little scene in the bathroom, or was it really just spur of the moment?" 

Blair could feel the whole-body shrug as Jim formulated his answer. "Don't know. I'd been trying to find some way to show you what you do to me. That seemed to work." 

"Oh, yeah, it worked. Definitely." He struggled to turn and face his partner. "But you have to admit it was an underhanded thing to do." 

Jim pulled back, gaping at him. "Me? Underhanded? I'm the most up-front guy you've ever met." Jim shifted to hold Blair more securely in his arms, sniffing indignantly. "I'm hurt." 

"Up front? Up front? This, coming from Mr. Repressed of 1998?" He couldn't believe this. Jim's sense of reality needed some serious adjustment. "If it weren't that I liked your 'handedness'," Blair countered, "A lot..." He felt a rush of warmth in his belly at the thought of Jim's hands on his body, and added, "Well, maybe I'd argue." He snuggled in closer, pulling the covers up to his neck. "But I just want you to remember one important thing." 

"What's that, Chief?" Jim's voice was getting sleepy again. 

Blair allowed himself a long, slow smile. "Payback is a bitch, man. Payback. Is. A. _Bitch_." The man had no idea what he'd started, Blair thought, knowing who was in control now. No idea. 

* * *

End Mission Control. 

 


End file.
